


Best Laid Plans

by anticyclone



Series: Selective Editing [2]
Category: Hidden Legacy Series - Ilona Andrews
Genre: Getting Back Together, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/pseuds/anticyclone
Summary: "I can be helpful," Augustine said. He took a long drink of coffee. "I think it's time for me to go. I've spent half of today on subways, planes, and cars.""You're only helpful when there's something in it for you." Rogan looked over at Nevada. "What did he ask for?""Nothing, which I'm pretty sure he regrets now."Nevada was good for Rogan. It was difficult to admit, because she would have beenverygood for MII, but she was good for Rogan. Also, she brought Augustine interesting cases even if she didn't work for him. Augustine just wished that when he'd agreed to help in this particular instance, he'd sworn Nevada to secrecy. But he should've known that secrets don't stay buried. Even when they're about stupid college fights.
Relationships: Nevada Baylor/Connor "Mad" Rogan/Augustine Montgomery
Series: Selective Editing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648147
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sadlikeknives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlikeknives/gifts).



On the second day of the fall semester, after Connor and Augustine had stopped speaking for good, Augustine ran into Felix Miles. Over the summer Felix had apparently decided to change the color of his eyes from blue to dark brown, which was an interesting decision Augustine would ask about eventually - because Felix was surely waiting for him to ask. But not now. Now, he tried to wave and keep walking without interacting.

That did not work.

"I heard Rogan fucked off to the military," Felix said, instead of hello. He grabbed Augustine's elbow and turned him around at one of the iron gates, steering him back into campus instead of off it.

"I really don't want to talk about Connor," Augustine said, flatly.

Two days. Not even. A day and a morning, that's all he'd gotten before someone asked. Connor wasn't even _here,_ and people were still asking Augustine about him. Ever since that damn video had come out. Augustine had practically gone into seclusion for the end of the summer just to get away from it. He'd been hoping that an entirely different city, in a different part of the country, would have been less obsessed with the news than Houston had been.

"Ouch." Felix smirked, and tightened his grip on Augustine's elbow when Augustine started to shake himself loose. "C'mon, you had to know the man wasn't that stable to begin with."

"What Connor has decided to do in service of the military is none of my business."

"It was only a matter of time. Someone with that kind of power could only lurk among us mortals for so long. I'm sure he'll enjoy what the army can do with him," Felix went on.

He was steering Augustine toward the Arcana Club. It was too early to be going to the Arcana Club. People there - People there knew, about him and Connor, that Connor had been possessive, that Augustine had been. That Augustine had been sentimental.

Primes generally maintained few friendships outside of their Houses. Non-family connections were liabilities. (Augustine was trying not to think about paying Mrs. Rogan a customary visit before leaving the city for the school year. She'd asked. He couldn't say no. He knew because he'd tried, very hard, to find a reason to say no.) Non-family connections could be tested at any time, and they were fragile, prone to breakage.

Everyone said that high school friendships didn't last. Augustine should have expected it.

"There are other people who can properly appreciate your talents," Felix told him. He let go of Augustine's elbow and looped an arm around his middle instead, which made it even more impossible to try to make a clean break and get out of there. "Do you remember Michelle?"

"She thinks gambling is stupid."

Felix laughed. "Yeah, she won't give me the time of day. But you? Over the summer her tentative thing with that psionic dissolved, or so I heard…"

Three more people, including Michelle, asked Augustine about Connor before he finally escaped the Arcana Club.

He left campus immediately and descended into the subway station in the square, folding away some of the gleam of his illusion, dulling it, until by the time he was on a train he was just another student. Albeit a student who could remember to take his backpack off when the train was crowded. He needed to be somewhere that didn't make him think of Connor.

Campus didn't help. His dorm room, secure against anybody who couldn't telekinetically unlock the door, didn't help.

All he wanted to do was sit by the river. There was no river in Houston.

The train came to a slow, rumbling halt in the tunnel before the next stop. "Please be advised," the conductor said, her voice on the edge of a sigh. "We are standing by until the platform at Central is cleared. We will be moving shortly. Thank you for your patience."

Augustine wrapped his hand around a pole and stared at his reflection in a scratched-up window.

Their last fight had been bad.

At one point Augustine had turned away and started to leave the room, in Connor's house back in Houston. He'd felt a pull on his watch. It had been rough enough to actually bring him to a stop.

He'd whipped around, snarled, taken the watch off and thrown it at Connor's feet. Something something "Don't ever touch me again" something "Why do you think I would want to" something blah blah something, fuck, they were probably never going to speak again, because Connor was going to get himself torn open and killed and the army would use it as an inspiring propaganda piece. Connor had snapped that he'd expected more of him. Augustine had said the same.

In the present moment, his hand gripped the subway pole so hard his fingers hurt.

As far as he knew the watch was still on the floor. Unless Mrs. Rogan had noticed it and thrown it away, after Connor abandoned them. She hadn't mentioned it at the single most awkward afternoon tea Augustine had ever been to in his life.

He exhaled. He'd promised himself he would stop being melancholy. Connor had been _a_ friend. Not his only one. Not the only one he would ever have.

The train moved. It inched into the next station, and as it did, the dark of the tunnel gave way to brightly lit platform. Augustine couldn't see his reflection in the window anymore.

***

Nevada was good for Rogan.

It was difficult to admit, because she would have been _very_ good for MII, but she was good for Rogan. Also, she brought Augustine interesting cases even if she didn't work for him.

Boarding for his flight back to Houston was six hours away when he received a text from her asking if he had five minutes to spare for a call. It was unusual enough a request that he answered, wondering if perhaps it had something to do with the wedding, which Rogan was trying to act like he wasn't concerned about at all.

It had nothing to do with the wedding.

"Not to be cryptic, but I don't have a lot of time," Nevada said. It sounded like she was outside. In the middle of a hurricane. "You don't have to do anything. I just have a question."

Augustine frowned and glanced at his laptop, which was sitting on a table in his hotel room, yet to be packed away. With his free hand, he called up the weather for Houston. The local station had an article touting the _torrential downpour_ currently hitting the season. "Nevada," he said. "Are you standing outside in the middle of a storm?"

"Rogan won't look for me here."

"That is not encouraging."

"Do you know who Felix Miles is?"

Augustine stared at the radar map for several seconds. Just as Nevada took a breath, he said, "We went to school with him. He's an Illusionist, and his family is the only Illusionist House in Boston. He works for his family's firm, nominally as a mediator but most likely in corporate espionage because I can't imagine he did that well in law school, and is struggling to say on his sister's good side. But you must already know that. Tell me what you actually need to know, please."

A long sigh. The sound of the rain retreated slightly, as if Nevada had walked further under cover. "Felix's name came up in this case I'm on. Bug gave it to us and told me to avoid giving it to Rogan as long as possible."

"Ah. That's nothing." Augustine turned away from his laptop and walked back to his bed, to continue packing his suitcase. He briefly shifted through his memory and offered the most innocuous detail he could. "Rogan hates Felix because Felix once wore an illusion of him. It wasn't a very good one. Felix is a Significant, but his eye for proportion isn't the best."

There was no answer from Nevada's end of the line.

"He made Rogan's arms too large," Augustine clarified, briefly shutting his eyes.

Nevada made a tiny strangled sound.

At some point, Rogan had informed Nevada of the fact that he and Augustine had an informal arrangement when they'd been younger. Augustine wasn't sure exactly when this had happened, although he'd been warned it would be happening. The only thing Nevada had ever said to him about it was _The wall-slamming did seem over the top,_ which he still didn't understand.

All right, that wasn't quite true. She'd also said _I'm surprised there's not fanfiction like that on Herald._ Then she'd laughed so hard at the look on his face that Augustine had to give her a tissue for her tears.

"Felix is several years older than us and was the student the Arcana Club assigned to test my magic. It made my life easier to be on good terms with his family, so I cultivated a friendship with him during school. He is an annoying person and you know how Rogan is about annoying people."

"Yes," Nevada said. "But Bug told me not to tell him, Augustine."

He sighed loud enough for her to hear it over the phone. Threw the last of his clothing into his suitcase and closed the lid. "Felix once got me into a bar fight."

"...You were in a bar fight?"

"You don't have to sound so disbelieving," Augustine said. He glanced at the clock. The hotel would be expecting him to check out soon. "Understand, this was before Rogan and I had our falling out. He was upset. If he still carries a grudge-"

Nevada snorted.

"-then I imagine Bug would know about it. Although I don't like to think why Rogan's bothered telling him to keep an eye out for Felix's name."

Nevada thought that over for a moment. Setting his phone on speaker to free up his hand, Augustine closed his laptop and put it back in its case. He was going to have time to kill before arriving at the airport and had originally planned to work on email in the hotel's cafe. Now he didn't particularly want to be inside at all.

He cleared his throat. "You said at the beginning of this call that I didn't have to do anything."

"You don't. The answer helped. I'll take it back to Bern, we'll figure out what to do next."

"I am in Boston for approximately four more hours before I need to take myself to the airport," he said. "Is there anything that can be done in four hours?"

He could have sworn he heard, through the phone, Nevada smile.

She put him on hold for two minutes, to call her cousin. He used the time to double check that there was nothing left to be packed away. The trip had been only two nights and he hadn't brought that much. It had been for business. He hadn't bothered telling any of his Boston acquaintances that he would be in the city. But if it helped Nevada (and, to be ruthlessly honest with himself, if it kept Rogan from thinking about Felix), it could be worth his time. It wouldn't hurt to have done her a small favor.

Nevada came back on the line. "Do you think you could convince Felix to meet you for drinks?"

"That shouldn't be difficult."

It was a few more minutes' work to sketch out a plan. The questions he needed to ask, the information he could collect to help propel Nevada's case to closure. She didn't tell him everything. He was sure he could find out later. If for no other reason than he had the means on him to clone Felix's phone and it wasn't as if Felix would notice if Augustine pocketed the device for a minute. It had been a couple of years but Augustine would be shocked if Felix was any less distractible than he'd ever been.

"Augustine?"

"Yes?"

"Did you win the fight?"

Startled, Augustine caught himself smiling in the mirror above the hotel desk. He turned back to the phone, took it off speaker, and placed it next to his ear. "Of course I won, Nevada."

"Good," she declared, and hung up.

***

Nevada accepted the small black device and turned it over in her hand. "What's this?"

"I cloned Felix Miles' phone for you," Augustine said.

She blinked and held it back out to him. As expected, she said, "I can't take this."

"I already edited out everything but the messages between him and your suspect." He did not mention that he'd kept the rest for himself, on an MII storage device. Just in case. He hadn't read it (there hadn't been time), but there might be something useful there. "If you don't take it, it'll end up with Bug, who will tell you the contents anyway."

It was still raining here, although less intensely than when Nevada had first contacted him. It had made driving here from the airport difficult. But Augustine was thankful for the rain. Getting Felix to show up for drinks had been easy, getting himself out of drinks had taken slightly more effort. Felix enjoyed reminiscing about college far more than was warranted. It was fortunate that the storm here had delayed his flight's departure from Boston, or he might have missed the plane entirely.

They were in the kitchen. He would have simply delivered the data and left, but he had spent more than half his day at this point inside one vehicle or another and the chance to sit in an actual chair was too good to pass up. Also, Rogan wasn't home yet, which meant Augustine was not going to have to deal with him.

Nevada considered things for a moment before relenting. She put the device down. "I prefer not using illegally obtained evidence in my cases."

"I had to do something to keep myself entertained," Augustine said, mildly. It made Nevada smile. He wrapped his hands around the cup of coffee she'd made for him. "Was the other information useful?"

He'd called her before boarding his flight. Sent her and her cousin all the information he'd gotten from his conversation with Felix. Minus the cloned cell phone data, which he had come in person to deliver rather than attempting to trust any kind of wifi connection he could've made before now. Also, he'd had to load it on his laptop and edit it to a state Nevada would find acceptable, which he hadn't been able to do until he'd been on the plane.

"Yes, thank you. I'm guessing Felix was annoying."

"I wouldn't call the conversation stimulating."

They'd spent a solid ten minutes on the state of construction of a subway connector station in Boston, which Augustine would have found more interesting if he'd still lived in the city. Although it had given him his ultimate excuse to leave the restaurant, because without the station being open the easiest way to make it to the airport was to sit in the back of a car in a lot of traffic.

"You could have started a bar fight," Nevada suggested, grinning.

"I did win that fight," Augustine protested. "And I didn't start it. The man was after Felix."

"And he punched you instead?"

"He wasn't an excellent fighter," Augustine told her, which on its own was a true statement.

"It's hard to imagine you hitting someone."

"You know I'm not lying. I am familiar with basic self-defense."

Footsteps in the hall made them both look up. Nevada pushed back from the table, but it was only to walk over to the single-serve coffee maker and pull a mug down for herself. Augustine briefly considered making an excuse to be on his way out the door, but the footsteps were too close, and it would look strange.

Rogan stopped in the kitchen doorway. "Why are you in my house?"

Augustine wished very much that he was not in Rogan's house. "Good evening to you too, Rogan."

Rogan walked over and folded his arms on the kitchen table, leaning forward, apparently intent on intimidating the bowl of raspberries Nevada had put out after Augustine had arrived. Augustine sipped his coffee and kept his face blank.

"If you didn't want me to visit the house you should have told your people to keep me out," Augustine said. He glanced sideways, where Nevada was making herself tea. "Or your fiancée."

"It's late to be doing work."

"Don't worry, I'm leaving as soon as I'm done with this coffee."

"Nevada, why is Augustine here?"

Nevada took stirred a small spoonful of sugar into her cup. She walked over to the table, sat down, and immediately betrayed him. "Augustine just got back from Boston. I don't know why he was there, but he did me a favor before he came back," she said. She took a sip of her tea. "Don't look at me like that, Augustine. I don't know why you thought I wouldn't tell him."

Because it's a bad idea, Augustine thought and did not say. Nevada should know better. He'd told her.

And, ah. Of course. He'd told her before boarding the plane. The flight had been over four hours long. Nevada was smiling and relaxed, which meant that she must have used those hours to resolve her case. If the case was resolved, then Rogan couldn't interfere with it.

"Boston," Rogan said, raising an eyebrow.

"It turns out the saboteur in our case did not have an alibi after all. He was in Boston, but he wasn't out with who he said he was," Nevada explained.

"And you broke the alibi?" Rogan asked.

"I can be helpful," Augustine said. He took a long drink of coffee. "I think it's time for me to go. I've spent half of today on subways, planes, and cars."

"You're only helpful when there's something in it for you." Rogan looked over at Nevada. "What did he ask for?"

"Nothing, which I'm pretty sure he regrets now."

Rogan crossed his arms over his chest.

"Reactions like this are why I don't do nice things for you anymore," Augustine said.

"You did nice things for me?"

"Nevada, thank you for the coffee." Augustine put his mug down.

Nevada smiled. "Thank you for the help. But you're not getting out of this." She touched Rogan's arm. "Augustine did me the favor of speaking to Felix Miles before he left Boston. I was always going to tell him, Augustine. Putting it off wouldn't have helped."

See if he ever did anything nice for any of these people ever again.

"You still talk to Miles."

Augustine decided to treat this like it was a conversation with a reasonable person, on the off chance that for once in over a decade of knowing Rogan it would work. "I still maintain cordial relations with the only Illusionist House in Boston, yes."

Rogan set his jaw and did not say anything.

At his side, Nevada watched his face, and when a full moment had passed she turned and looked at Augustine as if she expected him to fix this. Like any of it had been Augustine's fault. He stared at her until she raised her eyebrows, prodding, and then he looked down into his mug. It was dreadfully empty of coffee.

He sighed. "You cannot seriously still be on about this, Rogan," he said, as gently as he could manage. "It's been years."

"Nevada," Rogan said. "Did he bother to tell you why I don't like Miles?"

"He said Felix's illusion-disguise of you was bad. And that he won the bar fight, which I kind of wish I could've seen."

Rogan opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. He did not comment about Nevada's apparent desire to watch Augustine strike someone. Instead he said, his voice utterly baffled, "Illusion-disguise?"

Augustine looked at him, confused. An evening he'd done his best not to think about in detail for quite a long time slowly faded into color in his memory, and, oh.

"Ah," he said. "I didn't tell you that part."

Nevada swallowed her tea and coughed once.

"You did not tell me that part," Rogan grumbled. He looked at Nevada, who made absolutely no effort to stop laughing at him. Then he frowned, and his glare cooled into something icy. He looked back at Augustine. "Wait. If Felix was me, there would've been no reason for the guy who was mad at him to approach the two of you. Don't start, Augustine. You weren't with Miles often enough for somebody looking for money to come after you."

Augustine did not have a good reply to that. If he'd thought he could get away with it, this would've been a good moment to ostentatiously consult his watch and make for the front door.

Nevada cleared her throat. "Now I'm confused too. That happened at the same time as the fight? Augustine, I thought you meant it was two different nights. Somebody who needed money from Felix started a fight with someone who was not Felix?"

It was a terrible question. It made something click in Rogan's eyes.

"There is no point," Augustine told him, "in being angry about this now."

"You _heavily implied_ that this guy was so bad at fighting he hit you instead of Felix," Rogan said. His voice had gotten calm, and Nevada was grimacing. "Felix bragged about winning the fight. Of course he did. You were wearing his face when you fought. I can't believe I didn't catch this."

"Well, you didn't." As comebacks went, it was awful, but it was awful enough that Rogan was rendered momentarily speechless and Augustine could continue. "As I said, it's been years. There is no point in getting yourself worked up about it."

"You should've let me kill him."

"I am not going to dignify that with a response," Augustine said. "I understand you hate Felix, but it was a stupid misadventure when I was eighteen. Be content that you're wealthier than his wildest dreams and are due to get married to someone significantly out of your league in the next month. Also, if you glaring at me did anything, it would have had an impact long before now."

"Augustine-"

"What exactly are you picturing as the end goal of this argument? I'm curious. I've already spoken with him, I can't go back and not do that."

Rogan looked at him, and then at Nevada. She raised her eyebrows and seemed to communicate something silent to him before he turned back to Augustine. It should have tipped Augustine off to how much he was not going to enjoy the next part of this conversation, but it didn't.

Rogan moved his jaw like he was chewing glass, and then he ground out, "You know why Miles and I hated each other, right? Before the fight?"

"Enlighten me."

"I didn't like him because he wanted to fuck you."

Augustine stared at him.

"Miles put his hands on you a lot. Even when I was right there," Rogan said, patiently, like he was explaining how to draw a circle or why the sky got dark at night. "He steered you around and kept going on about how beneficial having a relationship with his House would be for you. He gave you a fake ID so he could take you drinking alone. He wanted to fuck you, and he was pissed that I was around."

"Connor, that's - that's ridiculous. Nevada, tell him he's being ridiculous."

"You're both being ridiculous." Nevada put her elbow on the counter and rested her cheek against her hand. "The only way to know would be to ask Felix directly. You both believe you're telling the truth."

Rogan smiled. "That can be arranged."

"No, it _cannot_."

"Even if you find a way to bring Felix here without getting arrested for kidnapping, I wouldn't question him. I'm not getting involved," Nevada said. "I told you about this because I didn't want to keep a secret, not because I wanted you to start a fight."

Augustine pushed back from the table. "I'm going home. Goodnight, Nevada," he said, pointedly.

The look he received suggested that Nevada wanted to roll her eyes, but she refrained. "Goodnight, Augustine."

Cold air hit him in the face when he opened the front door. There was still mist in the air, although the heavy clatter of rain had stopped. Getting in the car was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He stood in the doorway for a moment, frowning, trying to stop thinking about anything except everything Rogan had just said to him.

When he'd stepped outside, he felt the barest pull of force on his watch.

Startled, he turned around.

Rogan was standing in the hall several feet away. The tug of telekinesis at Augustine's wrist vanished. The most startling thing about it, he thought, was that it had been familiar. He hadn't wondered at his wrist catching. Recall had been immediate, the memory vivid.

Finally Rogan asked, quiet, "How much of an asshole was Miles today?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Do you want me to repeat that in front of Nevada?"

Rogan shrugged. "Yes."

"Felix bothered you more than he ever bothered me," Augustine said. "If ever he wanted something from me, which is highly doubtful, he never asked."

"I told him to leave you alone," Rogan said.

It was very tempting to simply walk out the door without reacting to that. If Rogan had told him this at any other point in time, any time before this past year, Augustine probably would have. And felt entirely justified in doing so. Now he was afraid that his surprise showed on his face. "When?"

"Twice," Rogan muttered. "Once when you first got admitted to the club and once at the end of the year, before we left town."

"You tried to warn him off me before you left for the military. I don't even know what to say to that."

For a moment Rogan looked like he didn't know what to say, either. Actually he looked like he wanted to break something, but he often looked like that, and Augustine dismissed it. At least until he said, clearly trying to keep disgust out of his voice, "When you met up today, did he do that thing where he walks up to you and puts his arm around you without saying hello?"

"No," Augustine said, because Nevada was not here and he was not about to tell Rogan that Felix had put his hand on Augustine's back to guide him into the restaurant where they'd gotten drinks. "There are plenty of legitimate reasons to dislike Felix Miles. This isn't one of them."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I believe that we're too old for this conversation. Felix has never tried anything with me, and if he had after you left, it would be none of your business." He held his hand up when Rogan's eyes flashed and he started to object. "What you're actually upset about is me lying to you about the fight, and I repeat: We are too old to be bickering about this."

Rogan said, "You still should have told me."

"Yes, so you could have a totally normal and proportionate reaction to it. I am asking you to please drop this. Don't you have actual things to worry about? Isn't your family arriving soon?"

Rogan shook his head and made a move like he was going to take a step forward, but didn't. He let out a breath. "Unfortunately. Did you get the info for the rehearsal dinner?"

"Yes. I'll be there early."

"If you are ever late to something, I'll send out the search parties."

"The wedding is going to go fine. If your family get unbearable I'll just pretend to be you while you sneak away."

Several expressions flitted across Rogan's face, including temptation. He relaxed a little. "Yeah, my mother would love that."

***

"Augustine."

Turning, Augustine smiled. "Mrs. Rogan."

She shook her head at him. He followed her away from the front entrance, down a hall that lead out to the garden. "When are you going to start calling me Arrosa?"

Never, Augustine thought. He ignored the question and instead asked one of his own. "How has your morning been?"

"Peaceful." She glanced sideways at him. "My son is still asleep, so."

Augustine knew how to take a cue. He laughed.

The garden doors swung open at their approach, and clicked quietly shut behind them once they were outside. On the other end of the yard the post-wedding breakfast was already assembled. Augustine could see the caterers putting finishing touches on the display. Catalina was already there, along with her mother and one of her cousins, the quiet computer-inclined one. He was eating, she was walking around adjusting plate settings. There were significantly fewer of them than there had been for the reception.

The post-wedding breakfast was supposed to be family only. Augustine still wasn't sure exactly who had been behind his invitation. Nevada had been the one to ask, but she'd had a curious look on her face when she had, so he didn't think it was her.

Catalina looked up and nodded when she saw him, which put her in the running. Actually, that would make sense. As far as he could tell Catalina was indifferent to him. But she might think that as Rogan's friend, he counted as family. It seemed in line with what Augustine knew of the Baylors.

"It's been good to see you again," Mrs. Rogan said. She came to a halt next to a flowering tree. Augustine did too. They were out of earshot of anyone at the table. "I have plans with your mother at the end of the week."

A small alarm rang at the back of Augustine's head. "Oh?"

"We're taking your little siblings to the Museum of Natural Science. They have an exhibit on deep sea exploration up right now."

"I heard that it's very good."

Mrs. Rogan angled her chair so she could look up at him. She looked relaxed. Her hair was loose, her smile easy and genuine.

Augustine was glad he had already linked his hands together behind his back. He gave her his best relaxed smile in return and did not look over at the table. There was no reason for Catalina or Bernard to think to rescue him, and if Nevada or Rogan had appeared, they wouldn't want to interrupt Mrs. Rogan.

He had the feeling he knew who had invited him to breakfast.

"Aside from certain regrettable moments," Mrs. Rogan said, in a dry voice that Rogan himself could only ever hope to imitate, "this has been a wonderful week. Your mother was saying that she's attended four weddings this past year."

"Yes," Augustine said. He could list them. He didn't. "I escorted her to some."

"She says that being a guest is perfectly relaxing. I told her that being mother of the groom wasn't so bad, but she claims that's all because we had such a competent wedding planner handling most of the arrangements."

"I'm sure it's different for every family." Augustine looked over at the table. Rogan had ambled out of the house and was staring at the food like he wasn't quite awake yet. He glanced up, saw Augustine, saw his mother, and tilted his head to one side. Augustine lunged for the opportunity. "I should say hello to Connor."

"Of course."

He made a beeline for Rogan. Thankfully, Catalina saw an opening of her own and walked past him with a nod to stop Mrs. Rogan and talk to her about - something. Augustine didn't really care, except that he was positive it wouldn't be about him.

"What was that about?" Rogan asked, spooning eggs onto his plate.

Augustine glared at him. "Your mother and mine are plotting."

Rogan blinked, then started laughing. He continued laughing as Augustine stalked over to the table with the drink carafes. There was a station to the side for cocktails, which he was sure Leon was not old enough to be lurking around, but he ignored it and instead poured himself a coffee. He felt like he would need the caffeine.

When he turned around, Nevada was there. She raised her eyebrows at him.

He poured cream into the coffee and added a pinch of sugar before handing her the cup. "Good morning, Nevada."

"See, you put a human amount of sugar into coffee. Rogan thinks I drink Pixie Sticks," Nevada said, before she'd even tasted it. She also looked relaxed. And happy. It suited her, the way she suited Rogan. She took a sip of coffee and said, "Good morning. Why is he laughing at you now?"

"He thinks it's hilarious that his mother is talking to mine about weddings."

Unnervingly, Nevada also blinked before beginning to laugh. "Does Arrosa have someone in mind?"

That honestly hadn't occurred to him. "Mrs. Rogan is very resourceful," he said, grimly.

"You could just go along with it."

"I'm too busy to be married off."

"I have to admit I'm having trouble picturing you on a date," Nevada said. A smile had spread over her face and her nose had wrinkled just slightly. "I feel like your natural reaction would be to have a contract for the evening. With contingencies for amicable exits."

"Somehow," Augustine said, turning to fix himself another coffee, "that tends to go over poorly."

"I don't know. Is your alternative dating apps? Because I've heard horror stories. A contract might actually improve the experience."

As Augustine turned back to face her, Rogan ambled over to join them. He'd left his plate on the table. He reached out and plucked the coffee mug from Augustine's hand without asking, taking a long drink while Augustine stared at him and said, pointedly, "You're welcome."

"Are you resorting to dating apps now? Should I break the news to our mothers?"

Augustine couldn't believe he was filling his third cup of coffee. He should have gotten up earlier and had his own at home before coming over here.

Nevada shook her head solemnly. "If you tell Arrosa, she'll just try to write his profile."

The expression on Rogan's face grew contemplative. Augustine glanced over at the alcohol at the other end of the table. There _was_ a bottle of whiskey, and he did still have space in his cup for a splash. But of course they would both see him doing it.

"If my mother wrote his profile," Rogan said, "it would say _nice young man_ somewhere in it."

" _So much more polite than my son,_ " Nevada said, and smiled warmly when Rogan raised an eyebrow at her. "What? You never overheard her commenting to Mrs. Montgomery about wishing you had teenage Augustine's manners?"

Rogan ignored that, although Augustine was positive that at some point their parents had likely had that discussion. He wondered what his own mother would've said to Mrs. Rogan when Rogan asked, "Where would she get a picture, though?"

"The wedding photos, when we get them back."

"That's probably better than whatever she could get from Bug."

"Have I actually congratulated you two on your marriage yet?" Augustine asked. He finally had a coffee of his own in hand. "I'm sure you will be very happy together."

Nevada looked sideways at Rogan and lowered her voice to a whisper, "He's insulting us."

"You get used to it," Rogan replied, not whispering. "He used up all his politeness in high school."

"It's a blessing that you found each other," Augustine told them.

***

"When you _do_ go on a date," Nevada asked, smiling, probably aware that she wouldn't be asking this if she wasn't on her third drink, judging from the gleam in her eye, "do you wear the same face you always do? Or do you go with the ultra-perfect version?"

"I don't know why I decided drinking with you two was a good idea."

They had returned from a spontaneous vacation in the mountains a week ago and invited Augustine over for no reason at all, that he could tell.

From the couch, Rogan laughed. He had claimed the entire piece of furniture for himself and was sprawled on his back, one foot up on the arm of the couch, one arm hanging down to the floor so he could keep his hand on his glass. Nevada had curled up in an overstuffed armchair. There was a dark red blanket draped across her lap. Her hands were wrapped around her own warm glass of mulled wine.

"Arrosa told us she sent you out with Nichole Ellersly," Nevada said.

"She did not-" Augustine bit down on the tip of his tongue when Nevada made a face at him. He edited the sentence in his head before restating it. "I had dinner with Nichole. We talked about business. We sat at a table Nichole specifically requested so that Angel Soto could see us. Nichole has very specific plans that do not include me, even if I wasn't too busy for them. Her mother is willfully ignorant of them, which is how my mother was able to arrange the evening."

Nevada took a drink. "Did it work? Was Angel jealous?"

Augustine raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

"He wore his ultra-perfect face," Rogan said, tipping his glass in Augustine's direction. "That's what he does when he isn't interested."

"How would you know?" Augustine asked.

Rogan smirked at him. "You didn't wear it with me."

"We did not go on dates," Augustine grumbled, sinking down in his chair. He took a quick look at Nevada's face, but she was still smiling and relaxed in her chair. "You mostly broke into my dorm room to bother me when you weren't getting enough attention. Like a cat."

"Breaking in implies that I used force."

Augustine looked at Nevada again, this time to meet her eyes. "He figured out how to telekinetically unlock my door from the outside."

Her nose wrinkled. "You can pick locks?"

"Anybody could pick a dorm lock," Rogan countered.

"You two keep giving me reasons to be glad I didn't have a traditional college experience," Nevada said. "Maybe Catalina really isn't missing anything."

Augustine looked into his drink. He was on his second, but it was still mostly full, and he'd been drinking slowly. If he stopped now, it wouldn't be too much longer before he was sober enough to drive home. He said, "Catalina is in a unique position. She's part of an emerging House and has no reputation to trade on. If she went to Harvard, she would have to deal with a complete lack of connections outside of whoever remembers Rogan fondly - I assume you did not break into all your friends' rooms. It would be difficult, and she would still be there at the end of House Baylor's grace period." Augustine paused and took a small sip of his drink. "Staying here isn't a terrible calculation."

He looked up and realized they were both staring at him.

Nevada had folded her arm and was resting her cheek in her hand. "Can you do career counseling for Arabella and Leon, too?"

He'd only opened his mouth when Rogan sat up, swinging his legs down to the floor so he could lean against the couch and stretch his arms out to either side. He left his glass on the floor. "You don't want the full extent of Augustine's counseling."

"Probably not," Augustine agreed.

The clock on the wall and the one on his wrist weren't quite in sync - the one on the wall ticked thirty seconds ahead of Augustine's watch - but both read that he had been here for longer than he had originally intended, when he'd arrived for dinner. He put his glass down on the small table next to him and picked up a cup of chilled water instead.

"Also," Rogan said, letting his head fall back onto the couch. "I did take you on dates. When you didn't forget what day it was and skip them."

"I have no memory of this."

Without raising his head, Rogan gestured at Nevada. "This is why he's still single."

"Well," Nevada said, settling further into her chair. "We'll just have to keep him, then."

Augustine choked on the swallow of water he'd had in his mouth. "What?"

"Do you have any more embarrassing college stories about Connor?" Nevada asked, like he wasn't wiping water off of his lips with the back of his hand. Like she hadn't just said something totally incomprehensible. "It's probably a good thing I didn't know he could unlock doors when I was still calling him Mad Rogan."

He stared at both of them. Rogan shifted his weight, moved his head over so it was resting on his shoulder and the couch at the same time. So he could look at Augustine. There was amusement in his eyes. Given that he wasn't outright laughing, and neither was Nevada, _and_ given that Rogan hadn't split anything in the room into pieces at Nevda's pronouncement, Augustine had the horrible sinking feeling that this was not a joke at his expense.

"I have lots of embarrassing stories about Rogan," he decided to say. He put his water down with a little more force than he'd intended. "May we rewind a few sentences? What is 'keep him' supposed to mean?"

There was a small tug of force at his wrist, his watch straining against his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath.

Rogan slipped off the couch. He prowled across the room looking like some kind of - some kind of big prowling thing. Augustine was too startled to think of specific examples. And then Rogan's hands were on the arms of his chair, blocking him in before he could even think of standing up.

"It's amazing that you make a living as an investigator," Rogan said.

"I hate you," Augustine said, without any heat to it. Or, without any hate to it.

"If I didn't have magic to tell me you weren't lying about it," Nevada said, "I'd think there was no way you two ever slept together, because you'd have to stop insulting each other first."

"Augustine managed to continue insulting me even when we were sleeping together," Rogan told her.

Nevada looked at him, and Augustine shut his mouth without insulting Rogan back. There was still a gleam in her eye. It looked less like a mulled-wine-gleam and more like a Connor-Rogan-gleam. Augustine spared a moment to consider the fact that he was outnumbered, and more than that, Nevada was smiling. "Do you think he still does it?" she asked.

"Probably, or he'd be married off by now."

"I am _right here._ "

"That's the plan," Rogan said, and kissed him.

Augustine gave up and kissed back. He'd figure out exactly what the rest of 'the plan' entailed later.


End file.
